


We're on each other's team

by UnrememberedSkies



Series: Whumptober 2019 Fills [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Blood, Character Death, Gen, Gun Violence, Human shield, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Stakeout, Vigilantism, Whumptober 2019, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 13:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20893091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrememberedSkies/pseuds/UnrememberedSkies
Summary: Okay, so maybe hehadasked Klaus to come along, but only because he’d known that there was going to be little to no action on that particular night, and if there was, he planned to lock Klaus in the car.Diego finds out something about Klaus in the worst possible way.





	We're on each other's team

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe it's taken me this long to write a fic with Diego as the main character. I love that knife-wielding softie so much. Title from Lorde.

Stakeouts for Diego were usually a peaceful time, a time to focus his mind, prime his body, and prepare for confrontation. It was a time for silence, just Diego and the sound of his own heartbeat.

There was a jarring medley of radio talk, smooth jazz, and eighties pop as Klaus finally settled on a station, turning Madonna up far higher than Diego personally thought she should ever be played.

He reached over and turned the volume knob right down with enough violence to almost wrench the thing off. “This is a stakeout,” he hissed at Klaus, “we’re trying not to get noticed here.”

“Diego, I’m bored,” Klaus whined, throwing himself back in the passenger seat and folding his arms sulkily. “When you asked me to tag along, I thought there would be more action than this.”

Diego bit back his response that he had never actually _asked_ Klaus to tag along, he’d simply discovered that Klaus was in one of his melancholy moods, and if left alone in the house would be perfectly poised to relapse if someone didn’t step up and intervene. Trouble was, Diego already had hard plans to deliver some vigilante justice that evening, and was reluctant to give them up.

Okay, so maybe he _had_ asked Klaus to come along, but only because he’d known that there was going to be little to no action on that particular night, and if there was, he planned to lock Klaus in the car.

He had a feeling that telling Klaus all this would not get the best reaction from his brother. Now that he was sober, his brother wasn’t quite the liability he had previously been, but he still refused to take up any combat training Diego offered, or eat any of the nutritious food Diego cooked for him. He was no longer heroin-thin, but he was still skinny and uncoordinated, and vulnerable in ways that made Diego want to mother him and keep him safe and warm, far away from the cold harsh world. 

Not that Klaus would appreciate that.

“Look, I- Get your feet off my car!” Klaus arched an eyebrow at him and didn’t move. Diego rolled his eyes, and took a deep breath. “Look, this is an important part of what I do, okay? It might not be the most glamourous but I need to find out who this guy’s meeting, which circles he runs in. Then I can take him down.”

Klaus glanced up to the window they’d been watching. The curtains were open and the room kept flashing white from the flickering of the television. Their mark was currently sprawled across the couch with one hand down his pants, and the other clutching a bottle of beer. Diego couldn’t help but wish he’d do something just a little interesting, just so Klaus didn’t think this was what he spent all his Friday nights doing.

“Does this mean I’m your apprentice?” Klaus asked, lowering his feet – finally – and leaning in. “Are you teaching me the ways of the vigilante?”

Diego’s first instinct was to say no, but Klaus looked interested for the first time that evening. “Sure,” he said, tapping awkwardly on the steering wheel, “if you’re willing to learn.”

Klaus nodded, looking back up at their mark. “So, is what he’s doing now important?”

Diego grimaced. “Not exactly. But I want to be there when something important does happen.”

Klaus nodded again, and lapsed into silence. For all of eight seconds. “You know, I find I can concentrate much better with a full stomach.”

“Didn’t you eat the chicken I made you?” Diego asked, not looking away from the mark. There was a telling silence from the passenger seat, and Diego turned to Klaus. “Klaus, you need to eat! I keep telling you this!”

“I wasn’t hungry at the time!” Klaus protested. He wrapped his arms across this stomach. “I am now, though.”

Diego sighed, looked back out the window. “Well I don’t have any food here. Didn’t think I’d need it when we’d both had proper meals back home.”

In a flurry of movement, Klaus twisted his body to peer out of the rear window, one hand on the seat next to Diego’s head to steady himself. “I think there’s a convenience store right the road, there. I’ll pick us up some snacks.”

Diego grabbed the back of Klaus’s coat and wrenched him back into the passenger seat. “You will not.”

“Why not? Nothing’s happening, he’s… oh.” Klaus trailed off, looking at their mark’s window. Diego followed his gaze, saw the curtains were now firmly closed. 

“Shit,” he said. “Did you see if anyone came in before he closed the curtains?” Klaus had the decency to look guilty as he shook his head. Diego felt his eyes on him as he ran a hand across his face. “Forget it. Let’s get your snacks and call it a night.”

Klaus didn’t say anything, just sat back in the passenger seat, brow lowered and lips pouting. Despite himself, Diego felt guilty. “He probably just closed them so he could jerk off or something,” he said. “It would have been a waste of time anyway.”

He turned the car around in the street, and headed back down the road to the late-night store Klaus had seen earlier. He pulled up outside, looked across at his brother once more. Klaus was fiddling with the hem of his coat, not looking at him. 

“You going in or what?”

Klaus shrugged, but then a second later, opened the door and got out. As he crossed around the front of the car and headed towards the door of the brightly lit store, Diego rolled down his window. “You got any money?”

Klaus shrugged again and pushed the door open. A shrill bell rang. With a sigh, Diego unbuckled his belt and got out of the car. If he didn’t, he’d end up the unwilling getaway driver as Klaus robbed the store blind.

The bell rang again as he pushed the door open and followed his brother into the store. It was overly bright after sitting on a dark street for so long, and Diego blinked a little before his eyes adjusted and he spotted Klaus down the second aisle, contemplating different types of potato chips. 

Klaus’s gaze flickered towards him briefly. At least he knew Diego was there, and hopefully that would mean he wouldn’t be stuffing stolen snacks down his pants. Diego wandered off to look at the household goods section.

He was idly considering buying some detergent when he heard the bell go again. He looked around the stand to make sure it wasn’t Klaus leaving with any stolen goods. It wasn’t, it was a shifty looking guy in a dirty grey hoodie, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Diego’s instincts were immediately on high alert. This guy was trouble. The guy behind the counter was fiddling with the radio, but when he glanced up at his latest customer, he tensed almost imperceptibly. Diego watched as the guy in the hoodie lurked around near the door for a minute, and hoped that Klaus wouldn’t choose this moment to take his snacks to the counter.

The air seemed to hum with tension, and sure enough, a second later, the guy pulled out a gun and started shouting. The clerk, Diego couldn’t help but notice, looked frightened, but not particularly surprised. He was probably used to having his store robbed. Diego would change that, make sure anyone else would think twice before treating this place as an easy target again.

Sliding a knife from its holster, he flicked it towards the guy, skimming his hand and making him drop the gun without it going off. The guy had only a second to realise what was happening before Diego sent another knife into his calf, and the guy dropped to the floor like his strings had been cut, screaming blue murder.

Diego walked over to him, meeting the clerk’s wide eyes briefly, before leaning down to pick up the knife that wasn’t lodged in the guy’s calf muscle. “You tell your pals that this isn’t an easy target any more, okay?”

They guy was probably too busy whimpering and crying to hear him, but Diego wanted to get his point across.

“Diego!” Klaus’s voice was raised in terror and Diego leapt to his feet to kill whatever was scaring his brother so much.

He caught a glimpse of another guy – _a second guy_ – pointing a gun at him. There was a flurry of eyeliner and black faux fur in his vision and then the loud echoing sound of a gunshot.

Time seemed to slow down, but that didn’t make it any easier to understand.

The sound of the gunshot cut through the sound of the other guy’s crying.

Diego braced himself for a pain that never came.

There was a weight pressed against him. A bony body wrapped up in leather and faux fur.

Klaus. _Klaus._

Pressed against him. Unable to support himself. Shot in the back by some coked up guy with a gun.

Diego’s eyes found Klaus’s, wide and pained, and time seemed to speed back up again. Diego gripped hold of Klaus, horror and fear washing over him like someone had upended a bucket of icy water over his head.

Klaus’s breath was stuttering in his throat, his face was rapidly draining of colour.

“Klaus,” he whispered as they both sank to their knees, Diego still supporting his brother. Klaus choked in response and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. His hands, pale and shaking, patted at Diego’s chest, as though he was checking Diego for injuries.

Diego’s throat tightened. 

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. The other guy, the guy who had _shot Klaus_, was trying to make a run for it. 

Rage suddenly flaring up amongst the shock, Diego curved the knife he had retrieved, hitting his target with deadly accuracy. The guy gave a gurgling screech before hitting the floor and going still.

Diego turned his attention to Klaus. “Klaus,” he said. “Klaus you gotta hold on, okay? P-please, you have to stay with me.” He pressed Klaus’s head against his shoulder, reached out to look at his back. The dark material of his coat was sticky with a rapidly expanding blood stain. He identified the wound, dark and pulsing, and put his gloved hand over it, applying pressure to try and stop the bleeding.

Klaus gave a strained whimper against his shoulder. Diego’s hands were shaking as he kept pressing, his eyes hot with unshed tears. “You’re gonna b-be okay,” he promised, his voice wet. “Klaus Hargreeves isn’t g-gonna go down in a convenience store hold-up.” 

“Di-ego,” Klaus’s voice was strained, slightly muffled against Diego’s shoulder. Diego looked down at him, terrified of what his might see. Klaus’s vivid green eyes were glassy and dull, and Diego watched as they fluttered closed, and felt Klaus go still in his arms.

“No,” he mumbled, bringing one hand up to touch Klaus’s cheek, smearing blood across his pale skin. “No, no, no.”

His tears burned a hot trail down his cheeks, and he pressed his face into Klaus’s hair, sobbing into his curls. “Klaus,” he gasped between sobs. “Klaus.”

He held his brother’s body closer, arms around his shoulders. Klaus’s hands fell limply down to his sides, and the movement made Diego sob harder. 

Every sob came from deep within his stomach, and he felt like he was going to throw up all of his insides as grief was dragged up from the depths of his soul. He held Klaus so tightly that had his brother been alive, it would have hurt him.

But Klaus wasn’t alive. Klaus was dead.

He had died saving Diego’s life, and Diego had let down someone he loved. 

Again.

He wanted to curl up with Klaus’s body and disappear with him, into whatever cool and peaceful place he’d gone. Instead he was here, in a place of pain and noise and the flashing blue lights of the cops and the paramedics.

He buried his face deeper into Klaus’s hair when someone put a hand on his shoulder. He refused to let his brother go when they tried to take him away from him. Klaus had always hated hospitals; Diego wouldn’t let them take him away to one when he couldn’t speak for himself.

Besides, there was nothing to be done. Klaus was dead.

Diego couldn’t move. His limbs were locked around his brother forever. He was going to die of dehydration or starvation on the floor of this convenience store because he couldn’t imagine ever moving again.

_Time slowed._

_Then it sped up again. _

_Like waves upon the shore._

There was a gasp, the sound of someone sucking in air. Bony hands resumed their grip on his chest, digging in hard enough to bruise.

Diego slowly lifted his head from Klaus’s hair. Klaus looked up at him, eyes wide and afraid.

And alive. Very much alive.

They stared at each other, Diego’s mouth hanging open in shock, Klaus working on calming his breathing. 

One of the paramedics noticed Klaus was conscious and tried to treat him, but Klaus shrank away from her so Diego motioned her away, still curled protectively around his brother.

“How?” he asked finally, voice barely above a whisper.

Klaus swallowed and looked away, fidgeting in Diego’s hold a little. Diego felt familiar frustration rear up in him. “No,” he said, taking Klaus’s chin and turning his face back towards him. He was still gentle with him, though, his brother had just been shot after all. “You can’t go all evasive on me now, Klaus, you just _died_.”

Klaus hunched his shoulders and pressed his face to Diego’s chest, his head tucked beneath his chin. “I know,” he said, voice muffled. “But I came back, like I did last time.”

Diego’s heart stuttered in his chest. Pressed so close, Klaus must have felt it. “Last time? What do you mean, last time?”

Klaus shrugged again, and Diego tensed, not ready for Klaus to go back to treating him coldly and responding to every question with a shrug. Klaus seemed to sense his tension, because he pushed himself up, looking Diego in the eye. “Last time I died. It’s happened before.” He rubbed the back of his neck, moving like he hadn’t just been shot in the back. “She doesn’t want me there, so every time she sends me back.”

Diego blinked at him, filing away the majority of what Klaus had said for consideration at a later date. He chose instead to focus on the crux of the matter. “So, you’re saying you can’t die?”

Klaus sat back on the cold tiles of the shop floor. “It seems that way, yes.”

“Is it part of your powers?”

Klaus started to shrug again, then seemed to realise what he was doing and quickly aborted the movement. “Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe it’s because God or whoever doesn’t like me.”

Diego was used to Klaus making dramatic statements like that, but there was something behind his words that suggested there was more going on than Klaus’s usual melodrama. One day, when they weren’t sitting on a convenience store floor, in a pool of Klaus’s blood, and surrounded by cops and paramedics, he would get the full story from Klaus.

“Okay,” he said. He put a hand on Klaus’s arm and Klaus looked up at him with wide eyes. “Either way, I’m glad you’re here.”

Klaus gave him a weak smile, which Diego returned. “Can you stand?” Klaus nodded, and Diego got to his feet, holding out a hand to his brother, which Klaus took gratefully, and heaved himself up.

Diego caught a glimpse of the store clerk, giving his statement to the police: he was looking at Klaus like he was a ghost. He turned back to Klaus who was rolling his shoulders, and tugging his coat around him, with a frown on his face.

“My back feels really weird,” he complained, pulling off his coat.

“Yeah, no shit,” Diego says, still struck with the surrealness of the situation. 

“Oh no!” Klaus cried, holding out his fluffy black coat and staring in horror at the bloody hole in the back of it. “This was my favourite coat! It’s ruined.”

Less bothered about the coat than Klaus, Diego edged behind Klaus to look at his back. Like his coat, his tank top was torn and bloody, but beneath the blood, the skin was clear, no sign of a wound. It was incredible.

Drawing his attention away from the lack of wound, Diego found Klaus still lamenting the loss of his coat. “-know how hard it is to get blood out of material like this, Diego? It’ll never be the same again.”

Diego glanced around them, at the cops that were watching them, waiting to swoop in and take their statements, find out what the hell had happened there. Diego recognised one or two of them, and wondered how easy it would be to convince them to overlook this one. Probably not very.

“Klaus,” he said, taking the coat out of Klaus’s hands and draping it back over his shoulders, “if I had to choose between you and that damned coat, I’d pick you. Every time. So, shut up.”

Klaus shut up, shooting Diego a sly grin that made the tips of Diego’s ears burn. “Fine,” he said, with practiced casualness, “but you’re buying me a new one. You owe me – I saved your life.”

Diego looked at him, face going so soft it seemed to surprise Klaus. “You did,” he said. “I didn’t get around to thanking you for that, what with you dying and all.”

Klaus’s cheeks pinked a little. “You’re welcome,” he said, quietly. He looped his arm through Diego’s. “I’d choose you over the coat as well. Even if it is an amazing coat.”

Diego laughed, looked back over at the cops. “I think they’re going to want to talk to us.”

Klaus pulled a face. “Can’t we just sneak out the back? That’s what vigilantes do, isn’t it?”

“Usually, yeah. But, uh, we’ve made quite a bit of mess this time.”

Klaus looked down at the pool of his blood on the floor, and went a little pale. “Oh.” Diego couldn’t help notice that he looked equally nauseous when he turned to look back at the cops.

He squeezed his arm. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, we’ll handle this. We’re a team, right?”

Klaus turned to him and _beamed_, and Diego felt a profound relief that he was able to see, and _cause_ that smile again.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel this is an appropriate fic to mention that my knowledge of American culture/language etc. comes entirely from TV shows and films. If you catch any stray British-isms roaming around this fic (or any of my other works) then please let me know. Honestly, this sort of thing was much easier back in the day when I was writing for Doctor Who...
> 
> Anyhoo, please comment and kudos, they feel like a warm hug from Diego!


End file.
